Arrowood. Mick Finlay

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СКАЧАТЬ was always uncomfortable receiving it: it was too open an admission for one of his class that he needed it.

      Once the business was conducted, he turned back to us.

      ‘Now, we need the details,’ he said, sucking on his pipe. ‘His age, his appearance. Do you have a photograph?’

      ‘He’s twenty-three. Not so well-grown like you, sir,’ she said, looking at me. ‘In the middle between Mr Arrowood and you. His hair’s the colour of the wheat and he has a long burn on the ear, on this side. I have no picture. I am sorry. But there are not many in London with our accent.’

      ‘Where did he work?’

      ‘The Barrel of Beef, sir.’

      My heart fell. The warm five-pound note I held now felt cold as cabbage. The guvnor’s hand, holding the smoking pipe, had dropped. His eyes gazed into the fire. He shook his head and did not reply.

      Miss Cousture frowned.

      ‘What is it, sir?’

      I held the money out to her.

      ‘Take it, miss,’ I said. ‘We cannot take the case.’

      ‘But why? We have an agreement.’

      I looked at the guvnor, expecting him to answer. Instead, a low growl came from his lips. He took the poker and began to stab the glowing coals. As I held out the money to her, Miss Cousture looked from me to him.

      ‘There is a problem?’

      ‘We have a history with the Barrel of Beef,’ I said at last. ‘The owner, Stanley Cream, you’ve probably heard of him?’

      She nodded.

      ‘We came up against him a few years back,’ I said. ‘The case went badly wrong. There was a man who was helping us, John Spindle. A good man. Cream’s gang beat him to death and we couldn’t do nothing about it. Cream swore to have us killed if ever he saw us again.’

      She remained silent.

      ‘He’s the most dangerous man in South London, miss.’

      ‘So you are afraid,’ she said bitterly.

      All of a sudden the guvnor turned. His face was glowing from staring so intensely into the fire.

      ‘We will take the case, miss,’ he declared. ‘I do not go back on my word.’

      I bit my tongue. If Miss Cousture’s brother was connected to the Beef, there was a good chance he really was in trouble. There was a good chance he was already dead. At that moment, working on the cabs seemed like the best job in London.

      When Caroline Cousture had left, the guvnor fell heavily onto his chair. He lit his pipe and stared into the fire as he thought.

      ‘That woman,’ he said at last, ‘is a liar.’

Chapter Two

      We were just finishing the pie and potatoes I’d fetched for our dinner when the door from the shop burst open. There on the hearth, carrying a carpetbag in one hand and a tuba case in the other, was a woman of middle age. She wore grey and black; her bearing spoke of a well-travelled soul. The guvnor was immediately struck dumb. I jumped to my feet and bowed, quickly wiping the grease from my fingers onto the back of my trousers.

      She nodded briefly at me, then turned back to him. For a long time they looked at each other, him with a look of surprised shame, she with a righteous superiority. Finally, he managed to swallow the potato he held in his mouth.

      ‘Ettie,’ he said. ‘What . . . ? You’re . . .’

      ‘I can see I’ve arrived just in time,’ she replied, her noble eyes travelling slowly over the pill jars and ale flagons, the ash spilling from the fire, the newspapers and books piled on every surface. ‘Isabel hasn’t come back then?’

      His big lips pursed and he shook his head.

      She turned to me.

      ‘And you are?’

      ‘Barnett, ma’am. Mr Arrowood’s employee.’

      ‘Pleased to meet you, Barnett.’

      She returned my smile with a frown.

      The guvnor eased himself from his chair, brushing the flakes of pastry from his woollen vest.

      ‘I thought you were in Afghanistan, Ettie.’

      ‘It appears there’s much good work to be done amongst the poor of this town. I’ve joined a mission in Bermondsey.’

      ‘What, here?’ exclaimed the guvnor.

      ‘I’m going to stay with you. Now, pray tell me where I shall sleep.’

      ‘Sleep?’ The guvnor glanced at me with fear on his face. ‘Sleep? You have a nurse’s quarters of some kind, surely?’

      ‘From now on I’m in the employ of the good Lord, Brother. It’s no bad thing, by the look of this place. These mountains of papers are a hazard, for a start.’ Her eyes fell on the little staircase at the back of the room. ‘Ah. I’ll just see the space now. No need to accompany me.’

      She put her tuba on the floor and marched up the stairs.

      I made tea for the guvnor, while he sat staring out the murky window as if he was about to lose his life. I broke a piece of toffee from my pocket and offered it to him; he put it greedily in his mouth.

      ‘Earlier, why did you say Miss Cousture is a liar?’ I asked.

      ‘You must watch more closely, Barnett,’ he said as his teeth worked on the toffee. ‘There was a point in my speech when she flushed and refused my eye. Only one. It was the moment I told her I could see into a person’s soul. That I smelled out the truth. You didn’t notice?’

      ‘Did you do it deliberate?’

      He shook his head.

      ‘It’s a good trick, I think,’ he said. ‘I might use it again.’

      ‘I’m not sure it is. Lying’s a way of life where I come from.’

      ‘It is everywhere, Barnett.’

      ‘I mean they won’t flush if you accuse them.’

      ‘But I didn’t accuse her. That’s the trick. I was talking about myself.’

      He was making hard work of that toffee, and a little juice escaped the side of his mouth. He wiped it away.

      ‘What was she lying about, then?’

      He held up his finger, grimacing as he tried to work the toffee off his molar.

      ‘That I do not know,’ he СКАЧАТЬ